


Disembodiment

by Pyca



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Gen, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Jon has social anxiety, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, Minor Character Death, Possession, Social Anxiety, an OC dies please don't worry, but that wasn't a tag, everyone is happier here because canon is sad enough, or more accurately ADD or ADHD inattentive type
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyca/pseuds/Pyca
Summary: There a more ghosts in the Archives than Jon expected.Not that he expected none, they’re everywhere after all. But he doesn’t have to deal with just them, no, there’s also flesh-eating worms and other dangerous entities roaming around apparently? This wasn’t what he thought his new job as the head archivist would entail.Meanwhile, Elias has multiple conniptions trying to figure out what the hell is going on with his new Archivist.
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Melanie King & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 31
Kudos: 119





	1. New jobs are stressful, but this is excessive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story idea just wouldn’t let me go and honestly, it’s so much fun to write. I hope people reading it will also have fun. At the moment I don’t know if Jon and Martin’s relationship will make an appearance in this fic. Martin is still pining, tho. But I’m aroace and have no idea how to write romantic feelings (I can deal with Georgie’s and Melanie’s relationship cause they don’t have a lot of screen time). Also, I’m projecting so Jon has ADD and social anxiety (releasing my writing is so stressful help). Not everyone experiences these things the same way and due to Jon’s past experiences his anxiety mainly applies to living humans.
> 
> Additional content warnings for each chapter will be found here in the notes. If I miss something, please tell me!
> 
> CW: None

It was Jon’s first week as the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute and he was about to lose his mind. 

How he’d gotten the promotion in the first place was beyond him. A few days after rumors about the old Archivist disappearing had started to float around, he’d gotten an email from the Head of the Institute, Elias Bouchard, himself, requesting a meeting. During which each and every question was met with a non-answer or a change of topic. Like why _he_ should be the one to get the promotion and not Sasha James, who already worked in the Archives and was better qualified.

Jon left that meeting with the distinct sense that he never actually had the chance of declining the job, and that Elias Bouchard was a sexist prick. 

Not that the job offer had been bad. It entailed a raise, the chance to pick out his assistants himself and a nice work environment.

He’d been employed as a researcher before, so he’d been down to the Archives a few times. Mainly to look at old statements related to the ones he was researching, and sometimes just to read and relax. He quite liked it down there. The rows and rows of old parchment and old yellow lights had a calming effect on him. 

He’d heard others talking about the unsettling atmosphere, but he guessed he was just desensitized to that. The only thing he ever felt there, other than peaceful, was annoyance at the apparent incompetence of Gertrude Robinson.

The previous Head Archivist hadn’t seemed very motivated to organize – well – anything, or maybe she’d just been too old to do the job. Whatever the case, anyone who wanted to look at a statement would’ve had just as much luck searching for it at random, as when they followed the Archivists directions.

Jon was _not_ looking forward to making sense of Ms. Robinson’s filling. Luckily, he was a little more qualified for the position than his previous occupation as a researcher might imply. Tales of the supernatural, were one of his special forte’s. 

Since he could remember, he could see and talk to ghosts. He mostly never had a problem differentiating between the living the dead. Their appearance could be a bit gory: Most of them still carried the wounds of their death, even if any lost body part was reattached. (For bullet holes, or similar, it looked like someone had taken a cylinder of flesh and skin, and put it in the bloody hole, which always reminded Jon of a children’s toy with different geometric shapes to push through the right opening.) He only has problems with recognize ghosts who passed away peacefully, but their unusual behavior and the ignorance of other people to their presence usually gave them away.

And ghost were often very bored and very willing to share their tales.

From his experience of the stories he’d heard, he knew that there were three main causes of death:

Some people died naturally. Some died in horrible, but ultimately also rather normal ways. And some people died because the terrifying shadow creature, that’s been stalking them for weeks, ate them. Or, well, that’s what happened to Alana Conrad, who was usually hanging out on the couch in the Archives break room (with bite marks and now reattached pieces of flesh littering her body). 

Jon had met her on his second visit as a researcher and they got along great. Her partner had made a statement after she’d vanished and had left her bloody necklace as evidence. The pendant had been important to her in life and even now she was rather attached to it. Quite literally. 

Jon had heard stories like hers all his life. People dying due to something supernatural. And their stories always had a main concept, which led to young Jon quickly becoming fascinated with searching for overlaps and categorizing them. He’d found fourteen categories and some of his ghost friends came up with names: The Buried, The Corruption, The Dark, The Desolation, The End, The Eye, The Flesh, The Hunt, The Lonely, The Slaughter, The Spiral, The Stranger, The Vast, The Web. Or maybe they’d heard those names from other people. It’s been so long, and he couldn’t remember.

Sometimes things overlapped, but the paranormal mainly manifested within those categories. It had shocked him to find out that the people working at the Magnus Institute didn’t know this, as he’d found out a few weeks into his first job here. And no one had listened to him as a lowly Researcher either. 

Now that he was Head Archivist, he could finally put his categories to use. So, thinking of a new organization system wasn’t what was driving him slowly towards a breakdown in the first week of his new job.

No, it was the dozens of ghosts desperate to make a statement.

 _Somehow_ , in all his years at the Institute, Jon had missed all the ghosts moving around in the Archives. They must have always stayed by the previous head archivists’ side, based on the fact that they swarmed him as soon as they realized _he_ was the head archivist now.

Once they also figured out that he could see them, they demanded of him to _do something_. They all wanted to make a statement, as that was their last wish - to not be forgotten, to not be another unsolved case, not to leave their loved ones clueless.

He hadn’t had a quiet minute since the day he started. A headache was building behind his eyes, he had two employees to train in a job he himself had no experience in, at least one ghost kept babbling at him at all times and he was so close to either completely snapping or curling up into a ball to cry and _it was only 10 am on a Wednesday_.

Jon was currently sitting hunched over his desk, massaging the bridge of his nose, while Mr. Parson kept trying to convince him to take his statement. 

Mr. Parson would have probably been a pleasant person to meet when he’d been still alive. The friendly neighbor and, from what Jon had gleaned from his idle chatting, the sort of father who had a real soft spot for his children. But now, about 14 years after his death, not so much.

His last goal, before passing on, was letting his family know what had happened to him. It was quite sweet of him, but it also meant that he had been trying and failing to give a statement for 14 years, with no one to talk to but the other similarly afflicted people. 14 years of frustration, boredom, creeping onset of despair, and the always same, just as sad, other ghosts to keep him company. 

You wouldn’t be very good company after that either and Jon honestly didn’t hold it against him, but if he could just _stop talking_ for a few minutes, while Jon tried to figure out how to record ghost voices, he would be eternally grateful. He was _not_ going to transcribe everyone's statements. That would take absolutely ages and his hand might fall off in the process of writing down several pages long stories filled with supernatural horror.

“Mr. Parson, _please_. There are more than ten other people waiting to make their statement. I know you’ve waited so long already, but I have to find a method to record your voices. The others are in the break room, why don’t you join them, and I’ll let you all know the second I can take your statements?” Jon pleaded with the man. Mr. Marriott (another ghost) had died with his groceries on him, also containing biscuits, and he had gotten all the other ghosts to hold a several hours long “tea” party (just without the tea. It was not the most thrilling but when you couldn’t interact with most objects, you had to entertain yourself somehow. Jon’s been told the ghost biscuits tasted great.)

“I have waited years! Years!”, Mr. Parson cried.

“No, I know, but-”, he started but the ghost talked over him.

“You need to record my statement now and I won’t go away until you do so!”

“Yes, you said before, but I _can’t_.”, Jon sighed. “Not even analog devices can pick up sounds from ghosts. I’m really sorry. So, until I figure something out, you’ll have to wait.”

Mr. Parson looked at the tape recorder, which was lying on the desk, in contemplation. Jon knew from experience that the supernatural and anything digital didn’t get along too well, so he was glad he had found it in one of the drawers. Didn’t solve his current issue, though.

“So, the problem is that my voice can’t be picked up, you say?” Mr. Parson asked.

Suppressing a sigh of relief, hoping that the ghost would finally stop bothering him, Jon nodded. “Yes.”

Mr. Parson let out a contemplative hum. “Well… that… yes…” Then after a little pause: “Okay then. I’m really sorry about what’s about to happen, but I have to do this.” he said.

“What? What do you mean?” Jon looked at the man in concern. He had a creeping suspicion about that was going to happen. The ghost advanced on him. “Mr. Parson… What are you doing?” He started getting up from his chair, just as the man jumped at him and roughly grabbed his arm.

“No! Let go!” Jon tried to free himself as his previous headache suddenly turned to a splitting pain, right down his skull, and his vision started to swim. His hands and feet began to feel numb, as if from the non-existing cold, and it spread inwards towards his core. With a thumb he fell fully back into his chair, but it didn’t register in his dizzy mind anymore.

“Stop.” he gasped weakly. Mr. Parson didn’t answer, and the world turned to darkness.

\--------

Ow, ow, pain, ow. Why was he lying on his desk? And why did the light have to be so bright and painful? 

Jon sat up with a groan, his aching muscles protesting. He squeezed his eyes shut, as the movement worsened the throbbing in his brain.

Oh yeah, he got taken over by a ghost.

Great. Fantastic. Just what he needed. With a cursory glance around the office through squinted eyes, because ow light, Jon confirmed that Mr. Parson had disappeared and had thus probably passed on.

Well, good for him, but that didn’t change that fact that he had forcefully possessed Jon’s body, caused him immense pain, and had been, what in “ghost circles” was known as: a giant asshole.

The light was still irritating his over sensitive eyes. If every muscle in his body hadn’t been aching, he probably would have stood up to turn it off, but they did. So he resigned himself to his fate and buried his head in his arms on the table. The tape recorder was still running and making a quiet wiring sound. Blindly he felt around for it, tracing along the buttons before pressing what he knew was stop.

He really wasn’t looking forwards to listening the tape back later and having to hear Mr. Parson speak in his voice. And he still had to figure out a way to record actual ghosts…

But later, when his whole body didn’t feel like it was ripping itself apart. He shoved his head further into his arms and futility tried to sleep it off. 

\--------

Jon wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the light wasn’t actively trying to stab his eye anymore and he felt like he could actually move.

He really hoped none of his assistants had come into his office just to see him sleeping in the first week of new job.

Yawning, he got up and shuffled to the break room. A strong cup of tea or some of that quick but awful tasting instant coffee sounded like a good idea right about now.

A glance into the main work area confirmed that his assistants were still looking into the files he’d handed out this morning. They probably hadn’t seen him sleep then, what a relieve.

Sasha James, currently taking notes while on a phone call, had been working in the Archives for approximately 10 months before Gertrude Robinson had disappeared. And prior to that she’d worked in the same department as him. Jon was glad to have her on his team, even if he felt guilty that he had gotten the job instead of her. 

Tim Stoker, who he’d asked first to transfer with him, when he found out he could choose his assistants himself. And not just because Tim was the only one who’d bothered to strike up a friendship with the quiet, constantly grumpy looking guy in the office corner, but because his research was always precise and surprisingly vast.

And lastly Martin Blackwood, looking a little hopelessly through old school records at the moment. Elias had suggested him, and Jon hadn’t seen a reason not to. He didn’t know the man, but from what he gleaned of his CV he wasn’t a bad choice. Though, unfamiliar people always made him jumpy, which didn't lend itself to actually training the man as an archival assistant.

After having confirmed that he probably wouldn't be disturbed in the next minutes, he closed the door of the break room and greeted the ghosts hanging out around the few small tables.

“You look dreadfully tired.” stated Mr. Hess as Jon filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave. Using the kettle and having to deal with the noise seemed like a terrible idea at the moment.

“Mr. Parson didn’t want to wait until I could find a solution to the recording problem, anymore.” Jon answered. “He just took matters into his own hands and possessed me.” That earned him scandalized murmurs all around the room. 

“We knew he was getting restless, but that is too far.” Mr. Hess said with a frown. The microwaved beeped and Jon took out his mug and poured in three spoons of instant coffee, not wanting to wait for tea to steep.

“I think we’re all impatient to give our statements, but I promise we won't do such a thing.” the ghost continued. Jon had turned around to lean against the counter, sipping his horrible coffee, and saw them all nod, with little muttered agreements. He thanked them and smiled. Why couldn’t he feel this relaxed around living people?

Chatting easily with them and getting some much-needed caffeine into his system, he could almost forget the ache still lingering in his body. 

But he almost spilled his drink as the door was abruptly opened, with Tim and Sasha walking in. He’d been mid-sentence, voicing his opinions about various cookie flavors, and he quickly snapped his mouth shut. 

Tim looked at him quizzically. “Were you talking to someone? I didn’t notice anyone come down to the Archives.”

“Ehm, no. No, just got lost in thought and spoke out loud.” he lied and willed his speeding heart to slow down. Someone catching him talking to what they perceived as thin air, always sent a spike of fear through him. Years of getting yelled at because of it as a child would do that to you. But Tim and Sasha just continued on with their lunch break and Jon made a hasty retreat back to his office.

\--------

It was a few hours later and Jon was rifling through a box of statements, somewhere deeper into the Archives. He had given up on finding a solution within the ones containing supernatural footage and had broadened his search requirements to anything pertaining to media, analog or otherwise.

Alana had left her usual spot on the break room couch and was sitting on an empty box that was definitely _not_ structurally strong enough to hold up an alive adult person. She had offered her help in the search and would tell Jon whenever she needed a page flipped or was done with a file.

Jon was on the floor next to her, half buried under various other statements. He let out a quiet curse as he opened a folder and an avalanche of additional evidence poured out.

“You know, this would be easier if you let your assistants help.” Alana commented.

“Yes, but I really don’t want to explain why I’d need to record ghosts. I know I’m a terrible liar and they’re not dumb.”

“Come on, you said Tim and Sasha were your friends. I understand why you wouldn’t let Martin know, but from what you told me the other two really believed in the supernatural. Surely they wouldn’t think you’re making things up.”

Jon rubbed his hands down his face before looking at her. “I’m not worried they’d think I’m lying. I’m worried they’d think I completely lost it. I’ve done that song and dance before and it’s not fun. Worst case: they tell Elias, and he demotes me for not being mentally stable enough for this position or something. And best case: I’ll forever have to deal with weary and worried glances that they think I don’t notice.”

Alana hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll have to trust your judgment on that. Can’t say I’ve ever been in a similar situation.”

They continued to rifle through box after box and while they were already at it, sorting them into the 14 categories, plus a separate collection of likely false ones that was growing the fastest. 

“Oh, got another drugs one.” Jon’s ghostly companion mentioned. He made a questioning noise, prompting her to continue. Making fun of the ridiculous statements had quickly become their favorite form of entertainment. “Group of teenagers. Walking home after a party. Mmh… obligatory mention that they weren’t drunk or high. Spooky forest. Creepy noises. Ah. They saw a deer, that sounds like a deer.”

“Into the false pile it goes.” Jon said as she pointed at the folder she was talking about. “We probably need to set up a whole section just for the false ones.” he noted as he looked at the ever-growing stack. 

“I think if the Institute specified that you don’t get paid for making a statement, there would be a lot less of them.” Alana said.

“True. Why don’t they-” he cut himself off as he heard footsteps approaching. A few moments later Martin turned around the corner. Jon really hoped he hadn’t heard him talking. 

“I- ah. I brought you tea. And, well, you’ve been here a while, and, uh, maybe, I thought, you might need help? I could help if you want?” he stammered out. Jon wasn’t sure if it was Martin’s usual awkward, or if it was because he’d just overheard his boss having a one-sided conversation.

“Thank you. But no need.” he quickly said. “And, ah… thank you for the tea.” Jon wanted to reach for the mug, but he realized that the whole floor was covered in documents and he had no spot to put it down. He quickly shuffled the nearest few into a messy pile before taking the offered tea.

“I’ll- Okay, ehm… Call if you need any help?” It sounded like Martin had intended it as a friendly request, but it’d turned into a question on its own accord. He then made a brisk retreat the way he came.

Jon just sighed into his newly acquired tea. He could relate to Martin’s awkwardness, at least when it came to talking to other living humans. But this had also been the second time he’d almost been caught talking to a ghost. He needed to be more careful.

“Don’t worry too much about him. I’m sure he thought you were talking on your phone or something.” Alana tried to cheer him up.

“There’s no cell service this deep into the storage area.” Jon muttered before he place the mug on the floor and turned back to skim through a statement.

\--------

It was Tuesday morning and Jon had another headache. Or maybe it was the same one as yesterday, he wasn’t sure. He just hoped that the painkillers would kick in soon. After finding so many probably false statements, he’d thought it best to discredit them as soon as possible. Finding sources as to why something was not supernatural was a lot quicker, than the other way around and now he didn’t have to worry about assigning work to his assistants for the whole day.

Apparently, Ms. Alston had had enough from talking to the other ghosts and had taken up the chair on the opposite side of his desk. At least she was being quiet, so he didn’t have a problem with that. Contrary to popular belief, ghosts were often even more social than their living counterparts, and enjoyed the company of people. Jon had gotten used to being idly watched a long time ago.

She must have gotten bored, though, since she got up and walked through the wall into the main work area, likely to stare over the shoulder of the next best person.

The feeling of being watched didn’t disappear with her however, like Jon had expected it to. He rolled his shoulders and neck in the hopes of somehow getting rid of it. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, or even an unsettling one, but it was weird to have it without any ghosts around him.

It didn’t go away, though. In fact, over the course of the next 30 minutes it seemed to grow stronger and stronger, until Jon could almost feel someone standing at his back. Jon shifted in his seat uneasily.

Then it dawned on him. It hadn’t happened in a long time now, not since college at least, but sometimes his head would be filled with impossible knowledge. Things he had never learned, but that were important, like the fact that the wooden ladder he was about to climbs up had a rotten leg and wouldn’t be able to support his weight. 

Someone had once called them visions and honestly Jon loathed the word. To him it sounded too much like he was a scamming psychic medium. But he didn’t have a better word for them, so goddamn ‘visions’ it was. 

Kind of ironic if you considered they came with the strong feeling of being watched. Just like now.

It didn’t come with a bang and it didn't come with a slow build up either. He just suddenly knew and then immediately felt a bone deep tiredness wash over him. There was no pain accompanying it, only exhaustion. Not physical, though, more like he’d spent the whole day trying force through a complicated math problem that no one had explained to him.

But that didn’t matter to Jon at the moment, because he knew how to solve his ghostly statement problem! It involved the handling of an objects from artefact storage (and also dealing with artefact storage, which he hated).

He was tired, though, and he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

\--------

Jon had been dog piled by a bunch of ghosts later that day again. Apparently, they felt the need to include them in their conversation, with topics ranging from philosophical to which type of chair was the best. No amount of reason or begging had shown any kind of effect. Half an hour before he’d left, a fight about which cup form was the most optimal, had broken out, and Jon had almost physically felt his brain turn to soup and run out his ears.

He was waiting for his train when a thought hit him, and he pulled out his phone.

**Jon:** Hi Georgie, how’s your week?  
  


Georgie was one of the few living people he considered a friend. They’d tried dating in college, realized they weren’t compatible and just stayed friends. But she was also one of two people who knew about him (turns out hiding something like that, while living in the same tiny apartment, was practically impossible).

Jon looked at his phone when it vibrated.

**Georgie:** Same old same old  
  
**Georgie:** Yours?  
  
**Jon:** Stressful. Actually the reason i texted.  
  
**Jon:** Are you free this saturday and up for hanging out? Just some movies or board games or smth  
  
**Georgie:** Yeah! Anything happened or stupid normal work stuff?  
  
**Jon:** Way too many ghosts happened. i'll tell on saturday  
  
**Georgie:** Oh! Want me to ask Melanie if she wants to come?  
  
**Jon:** Isn't she staying the whole week in some haunted mansion to film an ep?  
  
**Georgie:** Talked to her yesterday. Plan changed or something, she'll come back friday  
  
**Jon:** Then yes, please ask her. I might scream if i have to see 1 ghost this weekend  
  
**Georgie:** That bad huh? I'll let you know what she says  
  
**Jon:** Thank you, you're a godsend Georgie  
  
**Jon:** Pet the admiral for me pls  
  
**Georgie:** Will do!  
  


He smiled at the screen. They hadn’t done a proper movie and games night in ages and if he got to pet his favorite cat as well, this week might actually turn out alright in the end.

And if Melanie came it would be even better. Sure, the two of them didn’t always get along too great, especially if you added a competitive game to the equation, but soon after Melanie and Georgie had started dating a few years back, they’d found out that she was somewhat of a ghost repellent. 

They had no clue as to _why_ or _how_ , but as soon as Melanie showed up, Jon wouldn’t see any ghosts anymore. They hypothesized that her ability canceled out Jon's, instead of just straight up driving off spirits, since her show called Ghost Hunt UK was not affected by it. 

His phone vibrated again once he was on the train home.

**Georgie:** melanie says yes :D  
  
**Jon:** The weekend is saved!  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Also texting is so anxiety inducing. Good job on doing it Jon! And like Jon I have 2 friends who I actually enjoy hanging out with and I haven't seen them in a while...~~  
>  Thank you for reading this chapter! If you want, please let me know what you thought of this :D  
> My native language isn’t English, so if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know.


	2. Ghosts in Artefact Storage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon deals with Artefact Storage and records his first live statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up a system for Artefact Storage for this chapter. It's in the footnotes and I also linked to it at the appropriate spot in the text, but if you want to read it now it's here: **1**
> 
> Additional CW:  
> \- Elias has wrong and Victorian views on mental illness  
> \- Ghosts perpetually suffering  
> \- Jon gets sensory overload (mainly auditory)
> 
> (if I missed any please let me know!)

Friday had passed without much of an incident. Sure, he had to deal with overly talkative ghosts again and Sasha almost walked in on him explaining to Mr. Kramer the different categories the supernatural. (Not that he hadn’t already told his assistants about them, but again, talking to _no one_ didn’t look very good.) But nothing topped getting possessed or having the first vision in years.

Mostly, the day was filled with endless bureaucratic forms to request the artefact he needed to record ghosts.

It was an old phone, a Trimphone 766 from 1978, with a faded beige green coloration. The house it had been installed in had been owned by Haiden Farley and, after her death, her grandson Rian Farley. Rian lived there for three months before selling it. Due to its remote location, no cell service reached the area and the only way to reach Rian had been through the phone. He’d lived in the house alone, yet a lot of people had asked him if he was having a party, when they’d called.

They’d been able hear voices coming from somewhere in the house.

Eventually Rian had become curious enough and instructed a friend to call and listen, while Rian left the receiver lying unused on the table. His friend had been absolutely shocked when he’d heard a fragile quavering voice ask “Can you hear me? Oh please… why won’t I die?”.

Neither Rian nor his friend had any idea how to handle the situation and the police, and later the Magnus Institute, was informed. In the end, the phone was collected, and was now stored in the Institute.

Jon didn’t understand why he needed to fill out four different forms, just to get his hand on the thing. A day should be enough to record everyone’s statements, yet even getting permission to take the phone out of Artefact Storage proved to be difficult.

The most annoying part was, when the three ghosts, who were stuck in this existence because of an object, heard that he was talking to Artefact Storage, they wouldn’t leave him alone again. Constantly begging him to find their tether and destroy it.

He tried to explain to them that finding the correct artefacts would be virtually impossible in the sheer mass of objects stored there. Not to mention that Artefact Storage would _not_ be happy to have him burn artefacts. If their tethers even _were_ artefacts, since Jon honestly doubted it. Being bound to one meant, that even as a ghost you would still be haunted by its effects. Eventually he just gave up and did his best to tune them out.

When work finally ended he practically fled. The bag hanging on his shoulder felt like lead and he desperately wanted to fall onto a soft, cushioned surface. Didn’t matter if his coach or bed, as long as no one would bother him for the next 12 hours (at least).

\--------

In the end Jon actually managed to fall asleep in his bed instead of the couch, after having turned off his brain and watched anything and everything. That is, until a documentary on long range communication from the 1970s to 90s came on and he’d decided that one old phone per day was enough.

Saturday morning was spent equally lazy. Later in the day he went and picked up some snack food before taking the train to arrive at Georgie’s flat at the time they’d agreed upon earlier that day.

The first thing that greeted him upon Georgie opening the door was not actually Georgie, because she was immediately cut off by a loud meow. She chuckled while the Admiral began weaving between his legs.

“Good to see you, Jon.”, she greeted and then gestured towards the Admiral, who was trying his hardest to make it impossible for Jon to take off his shoes. “You’d think we give him no attention at all.”

“Good to see you, too.” He said to her. Crouching down to scratch behind the cat's ears he continued “And you, as well. Has she been neglecting you? Withholding cuddles, hm?” The Admiral pushed his head against his fingers. “Yeah, I thought so. Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the pets you deserve.”

“I knew it. You’re just here for the cat.” Georgie said as they both moved to the living room where Melanie was lounging on the coach, the Admiral following them.

“Aren’t I always?” he joked. “Hi, Mel.” he said as he flopped into the armchair next to the couch to let Georgie cuddle up with her girlfriend while he enjoyed his space.

“Hi! So, first things first: I’ve been told you had an interesting week. Spill. I want to hear the ghost gossip!” Melanie grinned at him.

“Yeah, yeah…” Jon let out an exaggerated put-upon sigh. “It’s not really that interesting to be honest.” He started to give them the abbreviated version and was pretty surprised when they only interrupted him once.

“Wait hang on. You had your first vision in- how many years has it been now?! And also, been possessed just the day before? You okay?” Georgie exclaimed.

He just shrugged. “I think I mostly slept it off by now. Anyway,” he said and tried to continue his story before he was cut off by Melanie.

“Wait, quick question: Is that good? Like in the time I’ve known you, you almost had now visions at all. Does this mean anything? That they disappeared and are now showing up again, I mean?”

“Well, I think it’s just a sign that my life has been pretty safe and boring up until now. They only happen when I need to know something important, like potentially lifesaving things or information.” he explained. Melanie nodded in understanding and he quickly finished the rest of his story.

“If I can’t get all the ghost’s statements out by the end of next week, I might actually lose my mind. Honestly, I’d almost be willing to go into Artefact Storage and steal the damn phone just to speed up the process. But so many artefacts are tethers for ghosts.” Jon ranted.

Georgie looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke. “You should really talk to your assistants. Not only would it help to lessen your workload, but you know how bad it is to suddenly drop all this on someone in an emergency situation.” Melanie gave him a look and nodded emphatically along while her girlfriend continued. “They all work at the Magnus Institute and seem like reasonable people.”

Jon slid a little further down the chair and crossed his arms somewhat defensively. He knew Georgie was right. He just really didn’t want to have The Talk(TM). “It’s not really necessary at the moment, though. Most of the ghost’s will hopefully be gone next week, and I’ll just have to be more careful when I talk to the remaining ones.”

“We can’t force you, obviously, but please tell them eventually. I doubt they won’t notice, and letting other people make assumptions about this doesn’t end well.”

“I know…” Jon grumbled quietly.

The awkward silence that followed was luckily broken by Melanie grabbing the TV remote. “Alright, what should we watch?”

The rest of the evening passed with pleasant chatter in between episodes. By the time they’d made it through 2 seasons everyone was ready to fall asleep and Georgie and Melanie offered Jon to crash the night on the couch. While not having to travel home did sound tempting, sleeping in a bed was even nicer, so he took the train home (and didn’t look at the ghost sitting opposite from him with practiced ease). Once he got home, he realized that yes, he was very tired, but this wasn’t the exhaustion he’d felt all week. He’d had fun with his friends and it _had_ cost him energy, but he was still glad he’d done it.

\--------

Jon spent Monday mostly sorting statements in his office while he waited for a response from Artefact Storage. Everything was ready, he had the adapter so he could plug the phone in, and he’d memorized the instructions on how to do so.

He'd also supplied his assistants with easy but enough work to last them at least until Tuesday. He didn't have to worry about training Sasha, since she already worked in the Archives, and Tim seemed to be doing quite well. Just Martin struggled to deliver concise and adequately structured reports.

It wasn't his fault, though, Jon knew, but it didn't stop the tiny jab of annoyance when he had to corrected everything he assigned Martin to. If only Jon knew how to teach someone. But he always struggled to find the words he needed or only remembered a crucial step afterwards, when he was alone and could actually think. Maybe he could ask Sasha to train Martin... No, no, that wouldn't do. He was their boss and he needed to behave like it.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth over a folder. Recording some statements was probably the best thing to do right now and he itched to get one of the true ones on tape. The false pile was larger, but they felt pointless to record and always left an unpleasant dusty taste in his mouth.

He got a new pack of empty cassette tapes out of his desk and started making a pile of statements he wanted to get through. A quick glance at the clock told him he could get at least a few done before lunch.

\--------

Elias Watched his Archivist record his third statement of the day with something akin to bafflement. He could still distinctly remember how Gertrude had struggled through her first two dozen or so. And here was his new hire, not even two weeks in the position, and he didn't even seem tired!

Not to mention that he deeply regretted not taking a closer Look at Jon before giving him the promotion. He’d seen those Marks and immediately knew he needed him to be his Archivist. Not to mention his absolutely delicious fear of being watched and judged.

But the man regularly talked to an empty room for crying out loud! And not in the regular “talking to himself” way, no, in the “talking to someone only he could see” way! There was no other sign of mental illness that Elias could see. (Considering most of his view had not changed over the many years he'd been alive those "signs" would've been deeply skewed and misinterpreted). Except for maybe whatever that fainting spell and later that... _episode_ or whatever.

Jon had also mentioned “ghosts” multiple times, but those didn’t exist. The thought alone was just preposterous! What was the point of the End if you could just continue existing?! Not to mention that Beholding would have made him aware of something like ghosts. It was most likely connected to whatever illness he had.

Also: why did he want that useless telephone?! And why couldn’t he See through Jon’s eyes?! No, he had to rely on the security cameras and an eye on a stupid book on the shelf in his office.

His new Archivist was a mystery he couldn’t figure out and that was annoying Elias more than anything. Mysteries made terrible chess pieces.

At the rate Jon was progressing, reading all these statements, he would need to speed his plans up a bit.

Now... What was the best way to get into contact with a Flesh Hive?

\--------

Jon had to wait until Wednesday for a response from Artefact Storage. He let out a huff as he read their email permitting him to take the phone out of storage, as long as he returned it at the end of the day.

He could get through all the statements in one day, but he’d hoped to have a little leeway. Seemed like he really had only today. Better hurry then.

The corridors were empty as walked towards Storage, mentally preparing himself. Even just standing outside the door he could hear wails and screams echoing behind it.

Taking a breath, he walked into the reception area. He winced at the increased volume before schooling his expression into something blank. Another door separated him from the actual storage area. Back when he'd still been a researcher he hadn't been permitted to go back there, but now he was Head Archivist and had enough clearance to even go to the higher-level sections by himself. Despite that he desperately hoped they would send a staff member to get the phone.

After a quick introduction and a signature on a list that hope was quickly shattered.

"It's in Section 1 under '33-1'. Just follow the signs." The worker behind the desk gestured towards the door into Storage and then handed him a paper with the identification number on it. “12.33.135”.1Jon tried not to look too grumpy as he walked towards the door.

"Remember to follow the green emergency signs should anything happen." he was reminded as he grit his teeth and pushed the door open. 

Immediately a cacophony of voices assaulted his ears. He pressed his hands over them as best he could, but it hardly made a difference.

There were so many tethers in here, he could barely take a step without walking through a ghost. 

"Please! Please, help me!" 

"Let me out!" 

"Destroy it!"

"Burn it!"

"Someone please!"

His head was ringing while he desperately moved towards the shelves labeled "33-1". _Don't let them know you can see them. Don't let them know you can hear them_. Hopefully they were too caught up in their suffering to notice his strange behavior.

Jon almost flinched as a child ran towards him. _Don't! They'll notice!_

The boy was crying. "Stop please stop! I don't want to play anymore!" he yelled and ran through him, chased by something only he could see. Jon pressed his eyes together, swallowing hard.

God, he wanted to help them. They were in so much pain. Murdered by things out of their worst nightmare and not even death allowed them to rest peacefully, tethered to the very thing that killed them.

He needed to keep moving. "31-3", "31-4", “32-1", "32-2", "32-3", "32-4", there - "33-1". Jon scanned the shelves as fast he could, his hands still firmly pressed against his ears. _Row 3, spot 5. Row 3, spot 5_ , he repeated in his head as he walked along.

Here in section 1 every item small enough was stored in a translucent plastic box appropriate for its shape and size, with an _S1 Artefact_ sticker on all sides and its identification number. Underneath every box was a plate clipped to the shelf with the same number, a picture and a short description. The spot number was helpfully glued in big letters next to it.

As he came to stand in front of the Trimphone, Jon realized with a start that he would need to remove one hand from his ears to hold the box. At least it had a handle on top and he didn't have to hold it with two. His face pulled into a grimace, but he had no other choice.

Ripping his right hand from his ear he grabbed the box and turned around. The unfiltered pleas and screams made him want to curl into himself. It felt like his ear might start bleeding as a sharp pain throbbed in his head.

"No! Please!"

"Don't let it get me!"

"Help, someone! Anyone!"

He sped up even more, if that was even possible without straight up running. At the end of the rows and rows of shelves he could see the door. How the hell he was supposed to explain his state to the staff outside he had no idea. But he also didn't currently care.

With his free hand he opened it and barely managed to slow his half jog into something more acceptable. He grit out a "Sorry, appointment." before hastily fleeing into the corridors.

\--------

Jon clicked the bathroom stall shut before leaning against the door. He needed a moment to calm down before heading back to the Archives. His ears were still ringing, and he tried to slow his breathing.

The fluorescent light above him whirred too loudly and he wearily slid down the door behind him. He placed the box on the floor and pressed his fingers into his ears again while he sat there with his head between his knees. The sound of the muscles in his arm flexing, transported through his fingers, became too much and he curled his arms loosely over his head instead.

He sat like that for however long it took for his breathing and heart to slow to normal levels again.

He hated Artefact Storage so, so much.

His legs were asleep and cramped but he still made his way back to the Archives as fast as he could. Lots of statements to go through and what would his assistants think if their boss just disappeared for too long?

After sinking heavily into his office chair, he released the latch on the box and opened it. The phone was the same old-fashioned beige green he'd seen in the vision and he sat it down on his desk. The phone, that had already been sitting there, had to be disconnected, but it's not like he used it anyway. Out of the top drawer he pulled the cable to connect the Trimphone to the outlet in the wall.

Jon stared at it for a moment once he was done. If this doesn't work, he would be back to zero. That whole ordeal and nothing to show for it.

Below the receiver sat a translucent plastic strip where luckily behind it the phone's number was still readable. Jon took out his mobile and dialed. _If this works my phone bill is going to be so high this month_ , he mused.

He was snapped out of his thoughts with a start when the old phone started ringing, but not in the loud obnoxious way he expected. It was quieter and sounded almost like... the chirping of a cricket?2

Just to be sure everything was in working order he picked up the receiver. After he’d turned on his phones’ speaker, he snapped his fingers to test the sound. Clear and loud enough to be audible on tape. A relieved sigh escaped him after he hung up. So far so good.

Now he needed a ghost. The breakroom was probably a safe bet.

Jon was glad to see that none of his assistants were in there. He quickly surveyed the room for which ghost to pick. It was probably best to work in alphabetical order, that way nobody would feel unfairly treated (hopefully).

"Excuse me, Ms. Alston. Could you come to my office? I have something I need your help with." he said. Ms. Alston nodded, "Sure." and followed behind him.

Closing the door, Jon turned to her. "So, I didn't want to give the others any false hopes, but I might have found a way to record your statements and-"

"Really?!"

"Well, it's not guaranteed to work. That's what I'd like to test with you. And if it does its job, I'll take yours right away." He smiled at her. He's never seen her so happy. "I'll call this phone here with my mobile. When you speak into the receiver it should transmit your voice over the call which I'll record with the tape recorder." he explained.

Ms. Alston nodded in understanding and Jon did as he explained.

"Just say something short like 'Test 1, 2, 3'", he prompted once the tape was running.

"Ah- Test?... Test? 1, 2, 3?"

Jon almost held his breath as he stopped the recording and rewound the tape. He pressed play.

His own voice rang out, though it was doubled. One from himself and one echoed back from the phone. Then a short pause.

Before Ms. Alston's voice broke it "Ah- Test?... Test? 1, 2, 3?".

"It worked!" he laughed. Ms. Alston beamed at him.

"Can I give my statement now?" she asked.

"Of course." he replied while rewinding to the beginning again to record over it. "I'll speak the introduction with the phone off, so I won't double. What's your statement about?"

“Just, ah. Just one more thing…” she said, suddenly sounding unsure. “Do you know what comes after? Will I just be gone, or…?”

“I don’t know.” he answered honestly.

"Okay…” she looked troubled for a moment. “So my statement. Ahm... It began when I was sent to repair some pipes under the Bluewater Shopping Center. So, I guess it’s about that?"

He nodded and sat up a little straighter as he began.

"Statement of Nadine Alston, regarding her experiences while repairing the pipes under the Bluewater Shopping Center. Statement taken direct from subject, January 6th 2016. Statement begins." He hit the pause button before dialing the number. Ms. Alston picked up the receiver. She had a determined look on her face and gave him a nod to continue.

He pressed record and listened intently while she told her story.

\--------

What the hell was his Archivist doing now?

Elias rubbed his eyes and with a grumble he set his Sight back on him. (Watching through the eye on a book. How undignified.)

\--------

"Statement ends." Jon said somberly. Ms. Alston had just finished recounting the tale of her death after all.

Her eyes were a little watery. She looked a little drained, even if she was glad she’d finally done it. "Reliving all that… was a lot, but… It's finally done. I guess I’m about to find out what comes after…" she stated quietly. Jon could see the edges of her starting to unravel.

"Goodbye, Ms. Alston." he said with an encouraging smile.

"Goodbye." she replied, meeting his eyes. "Tell the others goodbye from me as well, please."

"Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone who left kudos and/or a comment. I'm honestly so happy you enjoyed it! It's incredible to hear your responses and it brightens up my days. Thank you <3  
>   
> The system I made up for Storage is purposefully kinda shitty, because if they actually looked at the effects of every artefact, they might have figured out the "flavors" of supernatural already. (Also you do _not_ want to see the html for that list. It wouldn't let me use normal spaces to move the text and it was such a hassle to get something else to work.)
> 
> **1** Artefact Storage's Organization System:  
> Format --.--.---
> 
> Sections: 1 Not dangerous  
>  2 Not dangerous when handled correctly  
>  3 Dangerous  
>   
> Affected Area : 1 Body  
>  2 Mind  
>  3 Surroundings  
> .  
> Object Kind:  
> 1 Equipment: 11 Bags  
>  12 Tools  
> 2 Weapons: 21 Blades  
>  22 Firearms  
>  23 Medical  
> 3 Amenities: 31 Furniture  
>  32 Wall-mounted  
>  33 Appliances  
>  34 Containers  
> 4 Media: 41 Print  
>  42 Video  
>  43 Audio  
> 5 Miscellaneous: 51 Organic  
>  52 Inorganic  
> .  
> Storage Location: Shelf, Row, Spot
> 
> Example: If “The Seven Lamps of Architecture” (the book Leitner used to move the walls in the tunnels) were categorized (and on the third "41" shelf, on the second row, spot numbered 6) it would have the Number: 23.41.326 [return to text] [return to beginning note]
> 
> **2** Here's a youtube video if you want to know what a trimphone warbler sounds like: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uz2xiEz3ZIs>[return to text]
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter! If you want, please let me know what you thought of this :D  
> My native language isn’t English, so if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know.


	3. Who ya gonna call? Georgie!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon learns some troubling news, meets someone new and look what you can do when you have friends!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not too certain about this chapter's title, but it just popped in my head and wouldn’t go away, so I guess now it's staying.
> 
> Additional CW:  
> \- anxiety because of important but uncomfortable conversation
> 
> (if I missed anything please let me know!)

After Ms. Alston's statement Jon sat and took a bit of a breather. It had left him feeling simultaneously refreshed and tired, and he didn't know what to do about that. But he didn’t have time to deal with it either.

He only had today to get through everyone's statements if he didn't want to file another request for the phone (and go into Artefact Storage again, which was honestly the bigger problem). So he went back to the breakroom, making sure his assistants were still busy, and closed the door.

"Everyone, please listen for a moment." he announced. "I finally managed to record ghost voices, so you can all make your statements today." The whole room burst into excited cheers. It was good to see them so happy.

"We'll go through them in alphabetical order. But I have something a little sadder to tell you… Ms. Alston has passed on. She wanted me to say goodbye from her." A few people murmured to each other, but he was glad to see that the others didn’t take the news badly.

"Mr. Fry, you're the next on the list, please head to my office already. And everyone else, it'd be great if you could fetch the others with statements, who aren't in the room right now and tell them to wait here. That way we can get through everyone much faster. Thank you." With that he followed after Mr. Fry.

\--------

"Statement of Torin Fry, regarding his time as a train driver. Statement taken direct from subject, January 6th 2016. Statement begins."

\--------

"Statement of Lewis Hess, regarding his grandparents' collection. Statement taken direct from subject, January 6th..."

\--------

"Statement of Charlie Kramer, regarding her experiences while driving on the M3. Statement taken..."

\--------

"Statement of Brandon Marriott, regarding the man in the elevator..."

\--------

"Statement of Elin Milner, regarding their work on a construction site..."

\--------

"Statement of Siana Navarro, regarding her time in the Bayfordbury Observatory..."

\--------

"Statement of Andrew Padila, regarding the insects on his roses..."

\--------

"Statement of Anika Penn, regarding her class reunion..."

\--------

"Statement of James Wagner, regarding the corridors of the Hayward Gallery..."

\--------

Jon leaned his head on the desk with his arms crossed loosely in front of him. All the statements were done, and his head was buzzing. There was a pressure behind his eyes that reminded him of an oncoming headache, but it didn’t feel like pain, just a sense of “too much”. It hurt when he blinked, though, and his eyes felt rough and dry, like he'd forgotten to close them for a while.

He needed to do follow up on every statement and add it to the recordings. Rubbing his eyes, he sat back up and opened Word and the browser to start his research. This was going to take a while...

\--------

He was looking at a map for the rail network in the city that Mr. Fry had lived in when he first felt the prickling at the back of his neck. With the way he was hunched over the desk he assumed it was just his muscles protesting.

Shifting a little in his seat he tried to get back to work.

_Squirming, crawling._

He gasped.

_Warm inside, eat and love and burrow. Closer and more and more and more._

_Filling, cuddling, huddling, warm and loved together._

_We will come to you, we will meet you, we want you, come join us, join us, we love you, we love you, we love you, we love you, we love you, we love you, we love you, we love-_

Jon stood up so forcefully his chair toppled over with a dull thud. His breath was coming in labored pants. He felt the sickening feeling of love ache in his chest while his skin crawled with the phantom sensation of hundreds of soft squishy worms eating their way inside him. The image of worms squirming through tunnels beneath the institute was still in his head.

 _Another vision_ , he thought. _They were always correct... always correct… so that meant..._

His gaze was drawn to the shelf to his side, or more accurately the wall it was in front of. _Oh no..._

A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. "Jon? We heard something fall, are you alright?" Tim's voice came slightly muffled from the other side.

"Yes! Ah... yes, yes, I'm fine. I just dropped a box, nothing to worry about."

"Alright, if you're sure." Tim said, but he didn't sound entirely convinced. He didn't press though, and his footsteps moved away. Jon sagged a little in relieve and went to pick up his chair while he thought about what to do.

There were apparently tunnels under the Institute. An Entity of the Corruption was _in_ these tunnels. And it was _coming for them_! How do you stop a swarm of flesh-eating worms?!

God damn it, this was dangerous. Now he really needed to tell his assistants...

Fuck. He rubbed his eyes before he let out a weary huff and got out a sheet of paper and a pen. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it correctly. A script, that's what he needed.

\--------

Several hours filled with nervous jittering and a lot of balled up paper later he still didn't know what to say or how to approach the subject. And he didn't even know _when_ the Corruption Entity would make its move. For all he knew it could be building up its forces for another month, hell, maybe more! Or they were ready to strike in a few days. The visions never showed him the future, and by the number of worms he'd seen they might already be enough, but he couldn't be sure.

The sooner he told his assistants the better. It was just... he didn't know what to do, what to say and he was so afraid of their reactions. It never ended well. Sure, maybe if they were nice, they'd come around to it, like Georgie and Melanie had. But what if they told Elias? Or anyone else in the institute? He'd never be able to walk the halls without eyes on him again. And Tim was his friend, or at least he hoped they were friends, Jon was never certain. He didn't want to lose that. Sasha and Martin were nice too, as far as he could tell, but he couldn't predict how they would react.

Maybe they'd laugh at him. Or would they think he was making it all up for attention?

_"Sure Jon, you can see ghosts. How nice. Now go play with the others before class starts again."_

Would they make fun of him?

_"Oh, there he comes! Don't you know he can see ghosts? Ooooo~ I'm a gho~st! Can you see me too~? What an idiot."_

Would they get angry?

_"Stop making things up! Your far too old for this and you should know by now that lying is wrong!"_

Or maybe... they'd be scared of him, too...

_"What? How... How do you know about that? He never told anyone! You can't know. Just- Just stop, Jon, this isn't funny. I'll... I'll have to talk to your grandmother about this..."_

_"_ _Stop saying stuff like that about my mommy! Get away from me you freak!"_

_"_ _I need you to tell me about your drawings. Where did you see those things? And don't make up any lies again, just-... just tell me where you saw those bodies. You- You_ can't _see ghosts, that's ridiculous! You must have seen it somewhere else!"_

Jon swallowed around the lump that was stuck in his throat.

\--------

Over the course of the day all his assistants came into his office to drop of their finished files. While he still had a whole stack of false statements, it felt more productive to give them true ones to research. So he grabbed random ones from the stack Alana and him had sorted the previous week.

He also went back to looking up information from the ghost's statements. While the anxiety of the upcoming conversation still bubbled in the back of his thoughts, he'd decided that he would try to come up with a script again once he got home.

He didn’t look up straight away when he saw a ghost walk through the door, as he assumed it was Alana and she was already acquainted with his single-minded focus when it came to research. After he took down some notes on a possible lead he sat up and turned towards the ghost, who had settled in the chair in front of his desk.

And he immediately straightened up a little. He hadn't seen the ghost before. It was a young man with scars curving along his body like the seams of a stuffed toy. He was apparently not yet aware that Jon could see him, as he was studying the names on the files.

"Hello." Jon started and the ghosts head shot up to stare at him. "My name is Jonathan Sims, please call me Jon. It's nice to meet you."

"You- what? You can _see me_?" the ghost asked, shock written on his face.

Jon was used to this reaction, so he smiled reassuringly. "Yes, I can see you."

"You- ha!- You can see me. That's... That's good, that's really good... Oh, and- ah, I'm Danny Stoker, ahm nice to meet you, too."

"Stoker? Are you related to Timothy Stoker?" Jon asked.

"Yes, he's my brother. He's outside so... Are you coworkers? Also, is this the Magnus Institute?"

"Yes, we're in the Archives of the Institute. And he's technically my employee, but I've been his boss for only about a week. May I ask if you know why you're here? I mean, do you have something left to do, or are you looking after your brother, anything like that?" Those scars… maybe he’d followed Tim here to make a statement?

"No, it's-" he sighed. "It's not me who's attached to anything. It's Tim. He... He saw what happened to me.” He paused for a second and Jon was just about to open his mouth when he started up again.

“He started working here to find what killed me and then, I guess, avenge me? I was still around, but I- no matter what I tried I couldn’t tell him that I didn't want that. That I just wanted him to be happy again and- yeah... I thought he was able to work through his- his grief and anger when I felt myself disappearing after a while. But I guess those parts of him just got pushed into the back while he was making friends here. The files I saw him working on outside. Something about clowns… It must have brought those feelings back, I think..." he deflated and hunched into the chair.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stoker."

"Please, just call me Danny." The ghost gave a smile that looked just a bit strained.

"Well, then I'm sorry, Danny. For what happened to you. And for your brother. I didn't know about any of that and it was the statement I gave him that brought you back. Or I guess the emotions it evoked in Tim." Jon said. "I've only met a few ghosts, who were tethered by the feelings someone had for them, or were connected to them, but it does happen."

"Thank you and- and it's okay. It just hurts to see Tim like that."

A few moments of silence followed before Jon spoke up. "I'll see if I can find a way to help you and Tim." he stated. "He's my friend. I'm just not very good with the living, but I hope I can do something."

"Oh, that's- thank you."

"No problem. If you're able, could you tell me what happened to you?" Jon asked. "If you're not comfortable with that then that's completely fine, too, of course." he quickly added on.

"It's been so many years and I had a lot of time to think about it. I think I’ve come to terms with what happened, and you know, maybe _telling_ it so someone for a change might be good actually."

"Is it okay if I record your story? Here in the Archives we compile statements of people who had a supernatural encounter and, well you said Tim specifically started working here so you must have had one as well."

"Sure, if you're able to record my voice. Believe me, when I first became a ghost, I tried to get a message to Tim through any means possible and nothing ever worked." Danny said, looking vaguely annoyed at the memories.

"Oh, don't worry, I've just spent the better part of the week looking for a way to do just that."

\--------

Elias was about to pull his hair out. His Archivist had recorded _10_ different Statements from apparently _thin air_! He tried to somehow figure out what was going on by paying close attention when Jon talked to the- what? Invisible people?! Ghosts?! But he couldn't lip read a telephone. He definitely needed to get his hands on those tapes once no one would miss them.

Now he was also talking to Danny bloody Stoker, which was not possible. He was dead!

There were. No. Such. Things. As ghosts!

At least Jane Prentis was on her way to attack the Archives. Hopefully that Mark would make Jon a little more predictable, because right now he could only _guess_ what his next move was going to be, and he didn't like it.

If things continued like this, he might need to get a new Archivist...

\--------

"Statement ends."

Jon looked at the ghost in front of him. Danny was staring at the desk, tracing patterns in the wood. He seemed a bit drained and Jon wished he knew how to distract him from any unpleasant thoughts.

"Do you want Tim to know you’re a ghost?" he broke the silence.

Danny looked up. "What?... I-...” He took a moment to think, then quietly said. “I don't know… I guess I can talk to him with the telephone-“

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry but that might not be possible.” Jon interrupted him and looked guiltily at the phone. “I only have it for today and getting it again would be difficult. Of course, if you wanted to talk to him, I could still get it. It's just, uhm… nevermind." he trailed off.

“No, I think it’s fine. On one hand I want to tell him he doesn't have to avenge me. But on the other... I'm not really suffering because I'm a ghost, sure it's a little lonely but it doesn't hurt or anything. I just don't want to cause him anymore grieve and he might take it the wrong way and think it's his fault I'm stuck and, you know, ‘tormented by my continued existence’ like some of the ghosts in stories."

"I understand... If you figure out what you want to do, please let me know."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Come in." Jon called out. Martin opened the door, one hand on the doorknob while the other fidgeting with the end of his sleeve.

"Hi, ahm, I just wanted to tell you it's the end of the workday and, ahm, well Tim told me I should tell you so ah, yes..." Martins nervous stammering twisted something sympathetic in Jon’s chest.

"Ah, thank you for letting me know. I'll finish up. Good evening, Martin." he smiled what he hoped was a friendly smile.

“Good evening.” Martin quickly blurted out before closing the door behind him. For a few seconds it was quiet in his office again before Danny spoke up.

“I guess Tim will be leaving, too. Last time I couldn’t be too far away from him and those rules probably still apply, so I guess goodbye.” He stood up.

“Goodbye.” Jon replied.

“See you tomorrow.” Giving a little wave he walked through the door and Jon leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Today had been long and he still needed to bring the phone back to Storage.

He gathered up his things before he put the phone back in its container. Luckily for him he only needed to drop the box off at the reception in Artefact Storage and not actually bring it back to its spot himself. Something about inventory management and correct placement.

After that was done, he quickly checked that the Archives were empty before he locked up and headed home.

He tried to come up with a script for the dreaded ghost and worm conversation again while the tv filled the silence of his flat. In the end, all his drafts landed in the trash and he went to bed. He dreamed of pasta that night.

\--------

The next day Jon went back to researching statements from the ghosts while he did his best to ignore the anxiety simmering in his gut. But it prevented him from complete immersing himself in his research like he usually did. He kept losing his train of thought or his spot in the text he was reading. Every so often he would stop to write down notes on what he wanted to say to his assistants. By lunch time almost half of them were crossed out again.

He stared despondently at them. This was a mess. The longer he waited the more unsure he became of what he should say, and it wasn’t about to get better. He needed some help.

With a weary sigh he pulled out his phone and scrolled to Georgie’s number in his contacts. After a few agonizing minuets he managed to convince himself to press ‘dial’. It was her lunch break and she picked up after only a few rings.

"Hi Jon, what trouble did you get yourself into?" she answered her phone.

"Hey now, why would you assume I got myself into any trouble?"

"You wouldn't call otherwise."

"Yeah, okay, that's true." he conceded.

"So, what's up?"

"A Corruption Entity is coming for the Institute. I had a vision and there are apparently tunnels? And its worms are building up their forces behind the walls of the Archives, so now I have to tell the others because this is really bad and I don't know how to explain without telling them about the visions and the ghosts and-"

\--------

In his office Elias threw a pen at the wall and had to suppress an agitated yell. _How did he fucking know about Prentis?!_

\--------

"Okay, okay, slow down." she interrupted him softly.

"Right, yes, sorry. I need to tell my assistants and I need someone to make me sound less insane. Do you have time to come to the Institute, ah, ideally sometime soon?"

"I was actually thinking about taking overtime today, so I can come over before you close if you want."

"Really? That's great. Are you sure you want to spend you’re overtime on something like this? I could tell them to come in and leave later in a few days, and that way they’d still be here when you’re normally free from work.”

“It’s no problem. And it sounds like the situation is serious. Better sooner than later, right?”

“You're the best Georgie. I owe you one." He smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. You can pay me back by taking me to my favorite Restaurant this weekend."

"Mmh... I assume Melanie isn't of doing another shoot yet, correct?”

“Yes?”

“Why don't you two have a date as my treat this weekend? Romance your girlfriend a bit, just don't completely decimate my wallet please."

Georgie laughed a little before answering. "I think we can manage that. So, I can be at the Archives in an hour. That okay?"

"Yes, that works for me. That’s great actually. It’s just… I’ve been trying to figure what to say to them, but I still have no idea..." 

"Don't worry too much, I'll be there to help you out if you need." she said reassuringly. “Just do what you usually do for stressful conversations. Write a note with key topics and maybe a few written out sentences for difficult to phrase stuff.”

"Thank you. Again. Seriously. I'll see you then, bye."

"Bye!"

Putting his phone down Jon sank further into his chair. He drummed his fingers on the desk and decided to organize his random scribbles and pick out the best. He wasn’t overly optimistic any of them were good, but having Georgie with him made the ball of anxiety uncurl a little bit.

\--------

Elias paced around his office. This was alright. It didn’t matter if Jon knew about the flesh hive as long as he would get properly hurt during its attack. He knew that there was nothing he could find in the Archives that would tell him how to stop them.

What really frustrated Elias right now was his inability to Know how Jon knew. There was no way he was already developed enough as an Archivist to receive knowledge from Beholding.

Not to mention that he apparently had friends that would help him out. Ugh. He definitely needed to isolate him, if he wanted his plans to work out in the future.

Some good old paranoia would work great. Mmh…

His new Archivist was really making him call in a lot of favors and he wasn’t sure if he was worth it.

\--------

Georgie texted him, true to her word, about an hour later to let him know she was waiting in the lobby. Normally, to get to the Archives as a civilian, one needed to register at the front desk, but Jon just went to get her so they could skip any paperwork.

“Do you want to start right away?” she asked as they were walking down the stairs.

“I think that’d be best, yes. I’ll just ask them to sit down in the break room, that’ll be most comfortable, and well… We’ll see how it goes. But I don’t have any idea how to prove anything I’m saying.” Jon stopped on a step and looked at her hopelessly.

Georgie paused too. She’d been thinking the same thing on her way here. She could back him up, but his assistants didn’t know her. Why would they believe her? She could only come up with one solution.

“What if you let Alana possess you?” she suggested, but from the frown on her face Jon could tell she didn’t think it was perfect idea either.

“I… well… I could ask her, but if they already think everything I’m saying is bonkers they might think I’m putting on a show. I don’t look any different.”

“Yeah, but eyes change, your voice sounds a bit like the ghosts and your mannerisms are all different. It’s the best I can come up with.” She sighed.

Jon looked to floor in thought. They were still standing still on the stairs and he made no move to continue. Georgie could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “Jon?”

“Sorry got lost in thought.” he said and started walking again.

“What is it?” Georgie asked.

“There is a way to convince them, but it’s honestly a terrible idea and I definitely won’t do it because that would end horribly.” he stated.

“Okaaay…?”

“It’s-“ he lowered his voice. “Tim’s brother is a ghost. And he follows him around. But I’m absolutely not telling Tim in a group setting and- and just as a way to prove a point and then drop flesh eating worms on top of it.” He paused, then made a disgusted face and shuddered at that phrasing.

“That- yes that would be a horrible way to bring that up. Then let’s hope they’re convinced by Alana possessing you.” she said, and they walked the rest of the way down the stairs. Before they went to his Assistants, they checked in the breakroom to see if Alana was in there. She was leaning against the arm rest of the couch, looking bored at the ceiling, but sat up and looked at them when they entered.

“Hi Alana. This is Georgie Barker.” Jon greeted her. “Georgie, this is Alana Conrad.” He gave a sort of sweeping motion with his hand, so Georgie knew where Alana was and didn’t have to guess based on his eye line.

“Hello Ms. Conrad, nice to meet you.” she nodded at the couch cushions.

Alana looked uncertainly from Jon to Georgie. She never talked to a living person after her death. In the end she settled on “Nice to meet you, too.” and smiled even if Georgie couldn’t see it.

“She says ‘Nice to meet you, too’.” Jon relayed before he continued. “Alana, we need your help. I have to tell the others about ghosts and the only way to prove any of what I’m saying is if you possess me.”

“I uhm- I guess, sure. I’ve never done it, though.”

“I’ll allow you in, you just have to touch my hand and, well, other ghosts have described a consensual possession as feeling like they were drawn in. A bit like a magnet, so you just have to not fight it and it’ll happen on its own. It’s completely safe and either you choose to leave, or I’ll push you out at the end.” he explained.

Alana nodded. “Okay. That sounds easy enough.”

“Great. Thank you. Just wait here, please. We’ll get the others.” he glanced at Georgie, who gave him an encouraging smile and they went to his assistant’s desks.

Georgie noticed how he stood up straighter and one of his hands disappeared into his pocket, like she knew it did when he wanted to discreetly fidget, as soon as they got within eyesight. Danny was sitting on Tim’s desk and looked listlessly at whatever his brother was doing.

“Tim, Sasha, Martin. I’d like to have an important meeting with you. This is Georgie, she’ll be joining us. If you could all follow me to the breakroom, please.”

“Sure, boss. What’s this about?” Tim asked as he stood up with the others.

“I’ll tell you in a bit.” Jon said before he turned around. Georgie smiled at the other three.

“Hello, nice to meet you.” she greeted them. The others chimed up similarly and introduced themselves as they went to the breakroom where Danny sat down next to Alana.

Everyone took a seat around a table, looking expectantly at Jon and Georgie.

“Okay…” he began. “We work at an institute dedicated to collecting accounts of the supernatural, so I hope all of you believe in the supernatural at least a bit. But what I’m about to say will still sound strange, probably.” His hands were fidgeting restlessly with the folded sheet full of his notes under the table. He stared at it as he continued, “I can see ghosts.”

He risked a glance around the table to try and gauge their reactions. They looked mostly confused, as far as he could tell, so he continued with his explanation.

“I’ve always been able to see and talk to ghosts. I explained to you the categories the supernatural falls into already, and at the moment this is only a theory because we have no evidence and I’ve never head of a similar case, but we think it might be related to the fear of death, the End.”

Tim and Sasha shared a look that was mostly confused, a bit worried and only a hint uncomfortable. Martin meanwhile seemed completely out of his depth. His first instinct was to make Jon more comfortable, who had begun to draw up his shoulders while his eyes kept flitting to and from their faces even more rapidly than usually. But Martin didn’t know what to do, so he remained silent.

“But the ghost stuff isn’t the only thing I wanted to talk to you about. It’s- uhm, I- I also sometimes have these visions. Other people named them that. They don’t show me the future like the name might imply. They just let me know important things, like- uh, life or death situations, sort of. Speeding cars heading for the crossing I’m about to walk over, a rotten leg on the wood ladder I’m about to climb, things like that.”

Jon took a quick look at his notes and then glanced at Georgie. “Ahm, before I continue, I would like to know if you have any questions and if… if you believe me. You can also ask Georgie, she knows about all of this, so if you want a second opinion, that’s ah, that’s why she’s here.”

Georgie took as her que to speak up. “I know it sounds pretty unbelievable. I thought it was totally bonkers at first as well, but everything he said is true.”

It was quiet for a few tense seconds and Jon resolutely avoided everyone’s eyes. 

“This is… This is a lot.” Sasha broke the silence. Jon readied himself for the dismissal that was sure to come, but then she continued. “Still, we work at the Magnus institute and some of the things I’ve seen in Artefact Storage were also a lot… Do you have any prove? I’m sorry Ms. …”

“Barker, but Georgie is just fine.”

“I’m sorry, Georgie, no offense, but I would like to have some tangible prove instead of only your word and his. Jon, you’ve been in Research, you know how many people make stuff up.”

Tim and Martin seemed to agree with her.

Jon nodded. “Yes, we thought you might want that. It is a little hard to prove though, but-“

“What about me?” Danny interrupted him. “I can tell you something only I would know and prove to at least Tim that you’re telling the truth.”

Jon got a few looks as he suddenly started talking to seemingly the air. “I appreciate it, thank you, but I don’t think now is a good time.”

Sasha was studying the general spot he was looking while the other two just looked lost. Georgie was watching with an amused smile. It reminded her of Melanie’s first reaction.

“We can talk later in my office if you still want to then. Just, doing it now… this might not be the right situation and it, uhm…”

“It would end badly…” Danny finished for him with a sigh. “Yeah, it probably would. But I thought about it and… I think I’m okay with talking to Tim. Or well, you talking for me with Tim. But let’s do it later, yes.”

“Okay.” Jon smiled at him. “Ahm…” He’d lost his train of thought. “Oh! Yes. Well, I thought about how to prove this to you and I would like to introduce you to Alana Conrad.” He gestured to the - as seen by them - empty couch. “She’s been here in the Archives for about five years now and she agreed to help me out. You see, ghosts can possess people, and if it’s done consensually it’s perfectly safe. Hopefully it’s enough prove.”

“You should watch his eyes. They change the color of the ghost who’s possessing him. It’s proper spooky.” Georgie interjected and grinned at his eye roll at the word spooky.

“Anything else we should be ready for?” Tim asked.

Jon looked at Georgie, since he wasn’t exactly sure what it looked like from an outsider’s perspective.

“His voice mimics the ghost’s, but other than not… no, nothing else really. But I imagine the eye color change would be pretty hard to fake.”

“Well, there _is_ that trick Berk Eratay released, where the performer would hold contact lenses under their eyelids…”[1]

“Jon, don’t undermine us! We’re trying to prove your spooky ghost powers to them!” Georgie scolded in fake outrage, making sure to smile so he knew she wasn’t being serious.

“Uhm, well I don’t have any contact lenses under my eyelids… You can check if you want…” He looked at his assistants.

“Not really, thank you.” Tim replied quickly.

“Okay, so… Are you ready?” Jon asked the group. After he received a ‘yes’ from everyone he looked at Alana who had wandered over to the group at some point and was standing next to Jon. She looked a bit nervous.

“I just have to touch your hand, right?” she asked.

“Yes. Let it happen. Since I’m letting you inhabit my body, you won’t have to fight for control and when you or I want to stop, it’ll be over. Just like that. It might be a little overwhelming at first, so be ready.”

“Okay.” She nodded and seemed to steel herself.

"Give me a second." he told her. "Touch my hand when I lay it on the table."

Jon closed his eyes and exhaled. There were no such thing as paranormal defenses. Nothing to build up, train or now to let down. A ghost possessing a living body meant two people in the same brain. Twice as many signals to the same muscles. Twice as many signals firing through the same neurons. Twice as many sensory inputs. Twice as many thoughts.

It was normally too much. But Jon laid his hand palm up on the table and forced himself to relax. Don’t think, don’t move, don’t _want_ to move. Concentrate only on the breathing. Alana’s brain stem will sync up with his own almost instantly because they would start regulating breathing, heart rate, blood pressure and a few other functions simultaneously. Wouldn’t take long for them to figure out that breathing and having a heartbeat twice as fast wasn’t great.

Figuratively, the less space he took up in his brain, the easier it was for Alana.

As much as he hated meditation (and this was annoyingly similar) he had still practiced for days on end when he was younger, until he was able to turn off of almost all thoughts. Only concentrating on the feeling of breathing.

Only feel his breathing...

He couldn’t feel two of Alana’s fingers touch his palm.

He couldn’t hear her say his name in confusion.

He couldn’t feel himself getting pushed to the back of his mind.

He couldn’t feel his breathing anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally kicking up and I’m excited! And thank you for your comments and kudos. All of your responses are so lovely and so encouraging. It makes writing this story a joy. <3  
>  ~~Also, if I write "Georgie" wrong one more time I might loose my mind. Especially the "eo". I get it wrong every time. She's in later chapters as well and boy oh boy, I think I've written all the different ways you can misspell her name at least once.~~
> 
>  **1** Berk Eratray’s trick is also called BioKinesis and he released the instructions for it on dvd. You can look up videos of what it looks like on youtube (they're not very interesting and pretty melodramatic tbh).[return to text]
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter! If you want, please let me know what you thought of this :D  
> My native language isn’t English, so if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know.


	4. Livor Mortis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn’t know what “hunger” was, but this body interpreted the feeling gnawing at it’s very being, as such. So, it was hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hyperfocused on Millbank prison after looking up if there are any scientific papers on this style of building. And then I spent too many hours reading through books from the 1890s… I wanted to give you guys some info (because I just found it interesting and wanted to share), but it would have been really long and the css code wouldn't work and it's not important to the story, so I didn't end up putting it in the end notes...
> 
> Also, something I should mention: I’m purposefully leaving out _all_ descriptions of the characters, except the ones canon in the podcast. Like that Sasha is tall with long hair and glasses (hasn’t come up yet tho and she’s also the one with the most canon description). I’m saying this not only because I find it a bit weird if, for example, I imagine Martin with curly hair and the text says it’s straight, but also because some might think that a few of the descriptions in this chapter only work for white skin. I wouldn’t have written it that way if that were the case tho. I put a footnote with a little further explanation on how it would look on dark skin, at the description I mean.
> 
> Additional CW:  
> \- Physical description of dead body  
> \- Possession (non-consensual)  
> \- Character death (not main character!)  
> \- Jon has a panic attack
> 
> (if I missed any please let me know!)

Wanting it. Needing it. More. More.

There was no consciousness to it. Just this need, an all-encompassing need.

There. There’s more.

It’s easier. Open.

Wanting. Taking.

It pushed and clawed. Either it was stronger, or this pile of matter had grown more accustomed to it. It didn’t know. It knew nothing. It only followed the need. It only satisfied the need wherever it could.

Sensations.

Thoughts.

Electrons moving through other atoms. Electricity though flesh. New.

The want, translated into hunger.

It could feel it. The thing it needed nearby. It was there twice. One more potent than the other, but still dormant. It needed to refresh it before it could be satisfied.

Wanting. Taking. Hunger.

More. More.

"Hungry." The voice, that gurgled out of Jon’s throat sounded unaccustomed to speaking. It was a mimicry, like someone, who had heard the word once was trying to repeat it with only the vaguest concept of it's actually meaning.

Georgie looked at his eyes in obvious concern. "Jon? Jon, can you hear me?!" They were wrong. She was used to them changing into every humanly possible color. She was even used to them seemingly containing a giant empty void boring into her being when he was having a vision. But this…

His eyes looked dead. The cornea was clouded over and on both sides of the iris were stripes of a rotten reddish-brown color.1 She watched in horror as her friends’ skin became pale, his hands and nails turn blueish as his body seemed to undergo rapid livor mortis.2

"Hungry." the thing repeated and forced Jon's body into a horrible lurching motion forward, as it tried to stand up.

Martin, Sasha and Tim had looked on in equal horror but now all of them jumped up from their chairs. Ready to run or defend themselves or help if they could. Danny was torn between staying by Tim’s side or rushing to stand beside Alana, who had backed away, but her hand was still outstretched.

All of them were switching between looking at Georgie for any sort of clue on what to do, and the thing in Jon’s body.

It didn't get farther than halfway to standing as it lost balance almost immediately and fell to the floor. It caught itself on its hand and knees. Pushing itself up, it tried again. It swayed on the spot, before locking its eyes with Alana. Like a clumsily handled marionette, it started to walk towards her.

"What's going on?!" Tim asked, panicked but his tone was slightly hushed in an attempt to not draw the attention of the thing currently body jacking his boss.

“I don’t know! This never happened before!” Georgie hissed back quietly.

They jumped when Jon’s body suddenly lunged forward and gripped Alana’s shoulders. To them it looked like it was holding air as it pushed her backwards and down, making her loose balance and forcing her to the ground. She was trying to shove him off as Danny ran towards them and began franticly tugging at one of Jon’s arms.

“Let go!” he shouted but it didn’t budge. Danny knew he couldn’t affect things in the living world, but if that thing could touch Alana, maybe he could help.

Alana could feel the cold of Jon’s hands seep through her clothes into her skin. There was an awful familiarity to the cold.

“Remember.” the things said. This close even his breath was cold, and it stank of rot.

The coldness began to spread and suddenly she stopped trashing. A look of realization and fear appeared on her face. Tears began to gather in her eyes as she stared at something only she could see. The thing controlling Jon’s body leaned in closer.

“No.” she sobbed. “No please.”

Her gaze followed whatever she was seeing to her right arm. Suddenly it was ripped off and disappeared as she let out a pain filled scream. More and more pieces of her ghostly form were town off, the sound of her screams bouncing off the walls. Danny was unable to do anything but watch. No matter how hard he tugged at the arm, it didn’t move.

The others were still standing off to side. They saw Jon’s body gripping and leaning his full weight onto nothing, hands a few centimeters above the ground.

An awful look of comprehension formed on Georgie’s face. “Can you hear that?” she whispered.

“What?”, Sasha asked back.

“The echoes of the screams.” Her voice sounded a little hoarse. The assistants turned to look at her.

“No?”

“What are you talking about?” Martin asked, fear making his voice shake a little.

“I think- I think it’s killing Alana…” Georgie said, and everyone’s eyes turned back to the scene in front of them with newfound horror. Before any of them could decide if they should try to help, Jon’s body collapsed forward. The thing it had held to the ground underneath it – _Alana_ – had disappeared. It caught itself before it could smash its face into the ground. As it tried to push itself back up it pitched sideways. Whatever strength it had had seemed to have disappeared as it laid there in a heap.

Its eyes closed and everyone watched as slowly Jon’s skin turned back into a healthy color. No one moved for a few tense moments, then Georgie started walked towards him. She knelt down beside him and placed two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse and holding her hand under his nose, feeling his breath.

“I think it’s over.” she said and looked back to the others. They didn’t move from their spots, but their postures relaxed.

“What the hell just happened?” Tim demanded, his fear giving way to anger.

Georgie was turning Jon over into a more comfortable position as she answered. “Normally possession is hard for a ghost to do. It’s taxing on both the ghost and the host. To make it easier for Alana, he basically opened himself up. He once described it as taking up as little space in his own body as possible. But something else must have taken advantage of that… It- It left Jon’s body when he didn’t have any energy left to hold two… souls? Consciousnesses? Whatever you want to call it…”

It was quiet again as what just happened began to slowly sink in. Georgie was looking at the color of Jon’s hands.

“Whatever that was… that was not a normal ghost.” she stated almost to herself. Then she turned to the others. Martin and Tim had sat down at the table again, looking worn out. Only Sasha had actually come closer and squatted down next to Jon.

“His hand and eyes have never turned that color before.” Georgie said. “And that voice… Ghosts sometimes have trouble coordinating a mouth during possessions, but they usually get the hang of it pretty quickly. But that… it sounded like it hadn’t had a mouth in a long time… or maybe ever.”

“Great. So we have some sort of super ghost in the archives.” Tim said from the table. Now he just sounded tired.

“Should we, ahm… Should we do something? I mean with Jon?” Martin asked.

“You’re right.” Georgie sat up a little straighter. “I’ll get a taxi and take him to my place. He’s always a bit out of it after possessions so I’ll look after him.”

“Oh, I can drive you, if you want.” Sasha piped up.

“If you’re sure? I know this must have been a lot and you probably want some time to process.”

“It _was_ a lot. He can see ghosts! And ghosts are real! I have so many questions. But I don’t want to just ignore Jon. If I drive, I can help you carry him to your home, it’s cheaper and you don’t have to worry about the taxi driver thinking that you’re trying to kidnap him.”

Georgie nodded sagely. “Yeah, that is a pain to deal with…”

“Wait, what?” Sasha said as Georgie started to laugh.

“This is actually the third time I had to haul his post-possessed ass back to my flat. No one’s ever actually called the cops, but you wouldn’t _believe_ the looks you get when you tell them he’s drunk at two pm on a Tuesday.”

The tension in the room was still thick, but everyone stood up. Having something to do made them feel a little better. They carried Jon up to the parking lot. It didn’t look very graceful, Georgie holding him under his arms and Sasha his legs, but luckily for them it was midafternoon and not a lot of people were around.

Tim had packed his things and was following behind them. Once they’d deposited Jon on the backseat, he bid them goodbye. He hadn’t said anything else, but the others could see how shaken he was by the events.

Only Martin was staying in the Archives until Sasha came back. He was anxious about leaving them empty without any warning. What if someone came to give a statement or their bosses boss came by?

Sasha came back down to collect her car keys. As she headed back to the parking lot she gave him a little wave. After what just happened, she couldn’t imagine staying alone in the Archives.

\--------

It was dark and something small and warm was lying on him when Jon woke up. He squinted at his surroundings. Even with the minimal light coming in from the window he quickly realized he was lying on the couch in Georgie’s apartment. The Admiral had made himself comfortable between his arm and chest and using his shoulder as a pillow. It was utterly adorable, so Jon knew he wasn’t about to get up any time soon.

Not that he was very keen on actually moving. He felt exhausted and he _ached_. _Everything_ ached. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he just did the most intense work out session of his whole life. Even his lungs ached for god sake!

His eyes were already falling shut again. It didn’t occur to him that a consensual possession wouldn’t have made him pass out or leave aftereffects like this before he fell asleep.

\--------

The next time he woke up it was bright outside, and the Admiral was dosing on a sunny windowsill nearby. Jon reached up and gripped the back of the coach to pull himself up. His muscles protested the movement and his head throbbed.

To his immense relieve there was a bottle of water and a blister pack of pain medication on the couch table. Next to it was a note. He looked at the strength before he popped two pills out and drank them down.

Then he took a look at the note.

Hi Jon,  
I hope you don't feel too terrible. Don’t know how much you remember from yesterday, but you got possessed by definitely not a normal ghost. I took you to my place after you passed out. Was expecting you to wake up sooner, but you didn’t, and I have to work. Asked Melanie to stay home tho.  
  
One of your coworkers passed on that you’re sick so please don’t try and go to work. I don’t know what happened yesterday, but it was weird and we’re definitely going to talk about it. I’ll be home at around 17 o’clock.  
  
Do try and actually rest,  
Georgie  
  
---  
  
  


Jon rubbed his eyes after reading and let himself fall backwards. He immediately regretted it as the motion made his head throb more violently.

His memories of the day before cut off abruptly right before he’d prepared himself for the possession, which was unusual. The aftereffects also didn’t feel normal for a consensual possession, he realized. There hadn’t been any other ghost than Alana and Danny around, though.

Had Danny possessed him at the same time as Alana? It was the only explanation he could think of, but it didn’t make sense. Why would he have done so? He’d agreed that it’d be a bad idea to talk to Tim at that moment.

Worry, that something very wrong had happened, pooled in his gut. The feeling only intensified once he remembered that he still needed to tell his assistants about the Corruption Entity in the tunnels.

They were in danger and he thought about going to work and getting it over with had it not been for the fact that he’d been called in sick and it’d be weird for to show up halfway through the day. Not to mention the fact that he _was_ feeling terrible.

 _Maybe it was good for them to have a day to think about and process everything, before I drop another thing on them_ , he thought.

\--------

After the pain medication finally kicked in, he got up and went to make some coffee. The door to Georgie’s bedroom/office was closed and Melanie was probably working in there. He considered not disturbing her before deciding to knock. He heard a “Come in.” and opened the door.

“Welcome back to the world of the living!” Melanie cheerfully said before he had a chance to speak.

“Uhm, hi.” He smiled back. “I’m making coffee, do you want some?”

“Yeah sure. I could use a break anyway.” she said and got out of her chair, stretching her back in the process, then followed him to the kitchen.

“So, ahm, did Georgie say anything about what happened yesterday?” Jon asked as they waited for the coffee to finish.

“Some really scary shit from what she told me.” Melanie was slouching in one of the two chairs at the small table that Georgie had managed to fit into her kitchen, while Jon was leaning against the counter. “Look, I think you should hear about it from someone who was actually there, but basically the possession went really, really wrong. Your coworkers didn’t get hurt but they seemed to be pretty rattled. At least they believe you now.”

Jon made a contemplative hum and frowned but didn’t say anything. What if his assistants were scared of him now… He stared at the floor. They were his friends, or at least he wanted them to be his friends. Whispers behind his back, being avoided, strange looks whenever he passed… He crossed his arms in front of him and shoved those thoughts away. His assistants were still in danger from the Entity of the Corruption. If they were afraid of him, it could also make it more difficult to tell them about it.

“What got you looking so dire over there, Mr. Frowny Face?” Melanie teased to hopefully lighten the mood.

He shot her an unimpressed look, but at least he wasn’t staring at the floor like it had personally wronged him anymore. “Did Georgie tell you why I wanted to talk to them about all this stuff in the first place?” She shook her head. “There’s supernatural flesh-eating worms under the institute.” he said as if that was a normal everyday occurrence.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah…” he sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Got a vision. There are god damn secret tunnels, too. But the real problem is that they are targeting the Archives and since I have no proof except the vision, I had to tell them. But I didn’t get around to telling them about the worms and now I need to have another stupid conversation.”

“Back up a little bit there. Secret Tunnels? What, like under the Institute? Why are they secret?” Melanie asked. He could practically see video ideas popping up in her head. Before he could answer the coffee machine announced it was done.

“The tunnels are under the institute and some of them connect to the Archives. And they’re _scary tunnels_ under the _Magnus Institute_ , if anyone had heard about them it would’ve spread like wildfire. No idea why they’re there or what they lead to. I don’t even know how to access them as they’re behind the walls.”

“I can research them for you, since Georgie explicitly told me to make you rest. Maybe knowing more about the tunnels might be helpful, you know.” she offered, totally planning to make an episode out of them if she found anything good.

He thought for a moment before answering. “Tell you what: I promise to take it easy, watch some tv or something, but in return you lend me your laptop and let me help research. If I have to sit around doing nothing all day, I will lose my mind.”

Melanie looked at him skeptically over her mug. “Sure, but if Georgie comes home and finds you working, I will tell her you stole my laptop.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he waved her off. “I’ll make sure to look sufficiently not-busy.”

\--------

He’d taking three more pills of painkillers throughout the day, but there was still a lingering ache. He should have probably listened to Georgie and taking it easy for the day, but the uncertainty of what had happened wouldn’t let him rest. At least doing research kept him from thinking too much.

Jon was so lost in reading through Jeremy Bentham’s book on the panopticon, which he’d found an online copy of, that he almost didn’t hear the front door open. He quickly closed the laptop and put it on the couch table. After snatching up the tv remote he turned it on and began to idly switch through the channels. The Admiral got up from his spot on the back of the couch to greet his owner at the door.

A few moments later Georgie walked into the room, cat in her arms that she deposited on the floor and the Admiral walked off to find himself a comfy spot on the armchair. Georgie looked at the laptop on the table for a moment before giving an almost imperceivable shake of the head and sighed.

“What have you been up to? You didn’t just watch tv the whole day, did you?” she asked.

Jon gave her a sheepish look. “No, sorry. I know you said I should relax, but I couldn’t do nothing with everything’s that’s been going on.”

Georgie sat down on the couch next to him. “Yeah, thought so.”

“Can you tell me what happened yesterday? Melanie didn’t want to because ‘I should hear it from someone who was there’, as she said it, which is fair.”

“Sure. How much do you remember?”

He paused for a moment to see if he could remember more than before. “I remember preparing myself to let Alana possess me, but then nothing afterwards.”

Georgie nodded and took a breath to steel herself. “Okay. So… ahm… I don’t think Alana possessed you. You- ah- Your eyes changed, but ahm it was different than usual. They looked… dead, like from a _properly_ dead person. And you skin- It looked like livor mortis. Lower extremities turning blue and all that.”

Jon was looking at his hands, flexing them as if to test that he could still move them. His brow was furrowed, and he looked at her with unease in his eyes as she continued.

“Whatever was controlling your body, it said it was hungry and stood up. And you know how ghost’s sometimes have to get use to speaking and moving in a body again? Honestly, I’m… I’m not sure that thing _ever_ knew how to speak or move.”

She paused and tried to word the next bit carefully, which was making Jon even more nervous than he already was.

“I’m not sure what exactly happened next. I think the thing grabbed Alana… and… I heard screams. I don’t know how I could hear them but they- They sounded female…”

Jon stared at her. “Wh- I-… uhm…”

“You- no, the thing was holding her.” she continued. “It had pushed her to the ground and your hands were, well it looked like they were floating but Alana’s body must have been between them and the floor… Then it stopped suddenly, Alana’s body was apparently gone and you passed out.” She looked at him with concern. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened to Alana. One of your coworkers, ahm I think Sasha was her name, drove us here. She and ah Martin? They mostly seemed like they had a lot of questions, I think. The other one… he took it a little harder. Or I don’t know, he looked tense and left as soon as he could.”

Jon was gazing at the wall, looking like he was miles away.

“I- I have to go to the Institute.” he mumbled. “I need to look for Alana.”

“Jon, it’s afterhours. And… there’s nothing you can do. I’m sorry, but you can’t interact with spirits except hear and talk to them. That thing could, somehow, but _you_ can’t.”

A million thoughts were racing through Jon’s head and he kept losing track of them. They went in circles, trying to find answers. What was that thing? Could it be a ghost? Then why couldn’t he see it? What happened to Alana? Was she dead? Did he kill her?!

“Jon. Jon! I need to you to breath.” Georgie said loudly. His eyes jumped towards her and focused for a second before he glanced away again.

“Y-“ the word was cut off by his lungs taking a breath without his say so. He tried to get them under control before trying again. “Yes, okay.”

“Good, good. You’re already doing better, keep going.” Georgie encouraged him. She sat patiently with him as she gave him time to calm down. While she turned her head towards the tv screen, she laid one of her hands next to his thigh, so he knew she was still paying attention to him. She knew from experience that getting looked at, especially while he was panicking, would only make him more uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, his breathing had evened out, but he took a few more deep breaths for good measure.

“Okay. I’m better.” he let her know. “I don’t- ahm I’m not sure what to do now. I still need to talk to the others about the worms and I need to figure out what happened to Alana, but I don’t know where to start…”

“If you want, I can come with you again to talk to your coworkers.” she offered as she turned back towards him.

“No, I couldn’t ask you take time off again, that’s- I’ll be fine.”

“We both know you. You’ll go hide in your office and worry yourself half to death until you can’t take it anymore. And only _then_ will you actually talk to them.”

“Yeah… I know… But it’s just- I should be able to have a conversation like a normal human being.” He sunk into himself a bit.

“First of all: This is a stressful situation, and the conversation will be also stressful. You should start talking to them more, sure, but about normal and easy stuff, not _this_. And second of all: It’s okay to need help. And I’m happy to help. So just let me come with you tomorrow morning and we’ll tell them about the worms. Also, they must all have a lot of questions and I can help with that, too.” she told him.

Jon looked conflicted for a moment, gazing at the floor, before focusing back on her.

“If you’re really sure?” he said, and Georgie nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

She smiled at him. “Alright. I’m going to drag Melanie out of her cave and then we’ll make dinner and watch a movie.” she said as she stood up.

“I can start on dinner.” Jon offered. “What do you want?”

“Mmmh… I don’t feel like doing anything complicated. Let’s just do noodles and some sauce. I think I still have some mushrooms we can put in it. Or we’ll do tomato sauce, I’ll get Mel and then we decide.”

“Sounds good.” he said and stood up. “And thank you again, for helping me out with all this.”

“No problem, honestly. Now go make the noodles.” she shooed him off with a playful smile.

“Yeah, yeah…” he said, exaggerating an eye roll. She grinned at his mock-annoyance as he walked to the kitchen. Hopefully making dinner would keep him from thinking about tomorrow, or the _thing_ in the archives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked at so many dead bodies for this chapter. But hey, it was pretty educational.  
> I would have loved to use some nice fonts, especially in that opening, to make it clearer what is going on. Sadly, ao3 doesn't allow google fonts or any other custom font... [Here's the font I wanted to use for the opening if you're interested.](https://www.fontspace.com/tobacco-font-f25992) ~~btw, I really hate the font my phone defaults to for Georgies letter, but there's nothing I can do about it since apparently it's the only cursive font it knows.~~  
>  And thank you for all your nice comments and kudos. They absolutely make my day and I'm so happy you enjoy reading this <3
> 
>  **1** This is known as “tache noir” or “tache noire de la sclerotique” (eng: black spot of the sclera). It occurs when the eyes are left open after death. Contrary to its name it’s not only black. First, it’s yellow, then red-brown and then black.  [return to text]  
>  **2** If you headcanon Jon as dark skinned: Livor mortis (or postmortem lividity/hypostasis/suggillation) is also visible on dark skin. Gravity makes blood pools in the lower parts of the body making it red/purple, so since he’s sitting: hands and feet. (The places where there’s pressure, like on his thighs, would be paler and a little yellowish because blood can't pool there.) The purple/red coloration can be hard to detect, though, depending on the skin tone. In this case Jon’s hand and nails are visibly affected, which makes it easier for Georgie to see, especially on his palms and nails. If the body is moved, the blood would pool somewhere else, but because he’s standing up, it would still be his hands and feet. A dark-skinned individual will also show pallor mortis, which is the paling of the skin. It will cause the skin to look more ashen and "faded".[return to text]
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter! If you want, please let me know what you thought of this :D  
> My native language isn’t English, so if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know.


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